


Days Fade (and nights grow)

by thiswasahugemistakero



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Angst, Crayons, Drawing, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fun Ghoul is sweet as heck, Hurt/Comfort, I don't really see the killjoys as MCR but you do you, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Oneshot, Party Poison is a sad boy, Sad and Happy, art and stuff, but like, party poison is a flirt, there's a brief mention of some past steamyness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25613110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thiswasahugemistakero/pseuds/thiswasahugemistakero
Summary: Poison is struggling with being the face of the Killjoys, Ghoul distracts him and they draw each other.Pointless melodrama and fluff.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Fun Ghoul & Party Poison (Danger Days), Fun Ghoul/Party Poison (Danger Days)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 51





	Days Fade (and nights grow)

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Days Fade (and nights grow)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25764763) by [kanaeishere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanaeishere/pseuds/kanaeishere)



> so, uh. here's another fic. kinda in the same vein as my last one, but I'm nothing if not consistent.  
> Enjoy, and well wishes to all.

The sun is just beginning to set in the zones, letting the marginally cooler night air ruffle through Poison’s hair as he leans on the 'am. 

It’s strange, watching the sunset. He feels like it shouldn’t look the same anymore, but there it is. So much has changed since his biggest concern was going on a run alone and falling in love with his friend. There’s so much more at stake. He’s not the young rebel with nothing to lose anymore. He’s Party Poison, leader of the Fabulous Killjoys, the very face of the fight against BLI. He’s the protector of their best-kept secret: the small sleeping figure under thin blankets on a diner booth. Thank Destroya for Jet, he’s not sure any of them would be able to keep her happy or healthy without him. Alive, yes. Just not in the ways that count. It’s all too much for him sometimes. He’s just waiting for that moment, where he can’t take it, where he slips up, where it all ends like everyone says it will. Bloody. Caught in a firefight, when it all goes wrong. 

Poison squeezes his eyes shut as if it would block out that train of thought. It doesn’t work. It feels like his jacket is suffocating him like he’s overheating and can't get enough oxygen even in the cool night air. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want to shoulder all of it. It’s so much for one person, too much too much toomuchtoomuchtoomuchtoo-

“ Pois’? You out here?” 

Oh. there’s another thing that’s changed.  
Party’s not alone anymore.  
Not that he was before, but it’s hard to bare your soul when one vital piece is missing when you aren’t sure if you’re allowed it.  
Now, he has nothing to hide. He has his detonator. He has Ghoul. The way Ghoul’s had him for a long, long time. 

Taking a moment to steady his breathing, Poison calls out to him, 

“ Over here” 

He hears the crunching of sand and asphalt and hears a small thump on the ground before feeling a familiar warmth next to him. In moments like this, Party isn’t Party Poison anymore. He’s him. He’s Ghoul’s.  
Then he’s guilty that he doesn’t want it to end. 

“ it’s pretty, ain’t it?” asks Ghoul, and from Party’s peripheral, he sees him tilting his head towards the sunset while looking at him. 

“ why, you compeatin’ of something?” cracks Party, smirking and turning to face Ghoul and, oh, the sly bastard. He’s wearing Poison’s shirt. If it still counts as a shirt if there are no sides. Or sleeves. Not one to let his composure slip, he traces his fingers along the tattoos on the other’s ribs, and a couple of bruises (that may or may not have been his doing) and smirks at him. 

Ghoul cracks a smile and lets out a shaky breath. And damn, Poison needs to get out of his head, because Ghoul is a vision in the desert sunset. He itches for a time before all of this, when he could capture this moment in a photograph, or how he could paint the colours that bathe his lover’s face. He’s spoken to Ghoul about that before, and the conversation ended with Ghoul tackling him into a kiss. He had a little trouble walking the next day but, Destroya, was it ever worth it. 

“ C’mon Pois’ I could practically hear you thinking from inside, what’s wrong?” asks Ghoul, sliding his palms against the warm metal of the car.

Poison sighs and lets his entire body relax into Ghoul. 

“you know.” 

And Ghoul does know. Somehow, he’s able to know when Party needs a distraction or a conversation, or when he needs to be reckless and stupid and blow things up. So, naturally, when Party gets like this, he knows why. He wraps his arms tightly around him and nuzzles his face into his hair. 

“ Jet and Kobes finally got her to sleep. She was worried about you.” He runs his fingers through Party’s hair and laughs a little when his hand comes off slightly redder than before.  
“Which reminds me,” he adds, letting go of Party to pick up a small book and box from the ground, “ she wanted you to use this. 

Party accepts the box from Ghoul’s calloused hands and smiles. 

“Crayons?” 

“Yep.” 

“ Well Ghoulie, would ya be my model?” says Party, smirking, and he throws in an obvious wink just for the fun of it. 

“ Only if I can do you too, Cherry Bomb,” agrees Ghoul, seemingly before realizing what he said, and they dissolve into laughter. 

Party throws the red crayon and hits Ghoul right between the eyes. 

“ Alright Sugar, cool it, I can’t draw ya if you’re movin’.”

“ ‘m sorry,”

They lapse into silence, as they study each others’ faces in the dimming light of the sunset, with no noise but the desert air, waxy scratching of crayons and the metallic creaking of the ‘Am. For the first time in a while, Poison doesn’t think. He just follows the colours in his hands, tracing the face of the man he loves onto the page, and loses himself in it. It’s a bit strange to be drawing someone else drawing, but Ghoul makes it work. Once Party’s finally satisfied, he smiles up at the other man, who seems to have long finished his drawing. 

“ Done.” declares Poison, making grabby hands towards Ghoul, “lemme see the masterpiece” 

His partner turns his paper around, snapping it back and forth. Ghoul’s drawing is, well, crude. It’s a caricature of Poison, barely recognizable but for the flaming red hair and the bright blue of his jacket. In a messy scrawl along the top of the page, “ sorry, you’re too pretty to draw. XoxoGhoulie.” a small cherry with a fuse instead of a stem is drawn beside it, and honestly looks much better than the main drawing. 

Ghoul hands the drawing to Poison, smiling sheepishly, before ducking his head and chuckling softly. 

“ ‘s not real good, but-”

“I love it.” 

Ghoul rolls his eyes, as Party leans in and places a kiss on his cheek. 

“ Alright, alright, your turn now,” he laughs, lightly pushing him away. 

Ever the artist, Party’s drawing of Ghoul is much better. He tried to capture the sunset on his face, the rose gold light reflection on his hair and in his eyes. He tries to see it like Ghoul would, the way he didn’t quite capture the colour of his eyes, or how the drawing doesn’t quite match how symmetrical his face is, or how the tattoos aren’t sitting quite right, or-

“you see me like this?” asks Ghoul quietly, his eyebrows creasing slightly. 

Party doesn’t have time to worry before he’s being tackled to the hood of the car and kissed senseless. Ghoul pulls back, breathless, and leans to whisper softly into his ear, warm breath sending shivers down his spine.

“ It’s beautiful.” another kiss, “ you’re beautiful.” 

Party really wants to tell him that, while he’s not entirely wrong, the drawing wasn’t that good. That there are a million reasons why Ghoul is the better half of this equation, that Poison is the lucky one, that Ghoul, with his calloused caring, messy love notes and childlike drawings, means more than he can say. He does not, however, want to stop kissing Ghoul, so he doesn’t. 

They stay like that for a while, mouths moving in sync until they really need to head in or at least take things to the back seat because they really shouldn’t mortify Kobra like that again, but before they do, Party takes the drawing Ghoul made of him and puts it safely in his jacket pocket, where it stays.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, sorry for any mistakes with grammar and stuff.  
> love you all.  
> ( if anyone has a better title please tell me my brain is fried and this is all I had. )


End file.
